The Unspeakable Past
by Aranel Laerien
Summary: Say, did you know that Legolas had a diary?
1. Foreword

**FOREWORD**

When the time has come, I shall write a memoir of all that I have ever said and done,  
>in the hope that there might be some value within it to others who follow in these<br>footsteps – human or elf. Yet, for now, and for a long time hereafter, these events  
>shall remain unwritten, unspoken of. Except here, here in my trusted diary, which I<br>can only hope the current King Elessar would not misappropriate for his devious schemes.

Should this diary be found, kindly prosecute the king for theft. Thank you.

Legolas Greenleaf  
>Itilien, Gondor<p> 


	2. Of King Thranduil

**I.**

The first time I met King Thranduil was through a series of strange events.  
>I had been enjoying a pleasant repose in my soft, cushioned bed, when I<br>was rudely thrust out from there. There was a sharp, foul substance around  
>me that choked me, upon which I naturally and promptly cried.<p>

I remember that day, even though it has been over a millennium. A pair of rough  
>arms drenched me in water, and no amount of struggling came to any good. The<br>noise around me was unbearable, and when they had frisked me with a sweet-  
>smelling towel, they handed me to a rectangular being with something round<br>at the top.

I disliked him at once, for he nearly dropped me, in a movement which I would  
>later learn was called "rocking". But this being, with the cheek to smile at my<br>misfortune, was King Thranduil. Like every other being, he had two eyes, a nose,  
>a mouth; a head properly aligned upon strong, broad shoulders.<p>

But he was special. I was the only one allowed to see him whenever I wanted.  
>And I could pull his hair.<p> 


	3. Of Mithrandir

**II.**

There was nothing particularly interesting about that old being but everyone held  
>him in the highest regard. No one bothered to tell me anything much because I was<br>too young then, but there was something quite magical about him, if I may say so.

As far as I was concerned, he had too many frowns across his brow, and his hair was  
>a dishevelled mess. Of course, I had yet to meet any humans at that time, so seeing<br>anyone in such a state of… upheaval was nerve-wrecking. I wonder why nana didn't  
>tie him to a chair and get his hair in a better shape; she always did that when I… forgot<br>to brush my hair. Mind you, I always combed.

In any case, even though I remained polite around Mithrandir, I did not particularly  
>like him. This was not helped by him looking at my small bow pointedly – and I say<br>"pointedly" because there was definitely something quite pointy about his expression.

And it didn't help that my bow didn't work after he used it to set off this thing called  
>fireworks. Still, I should have known that the gleam in his eyes was far more treacherous<br>than anyone had thought possible; I am certain that my flask of that new drink from  
>Dorwinion didn't disappear by accident.<p> 


	4. Of Dorwinion Specialities

**III.**

There was always something that Naneth never was quite happy about,  
>and this was Adar's preoccupation with trading with the Dorwinion region.<br>I never understood why it was important, either, until one eventful night.  
>Erendil, my sworn brother, said something not particularly nice about me,<br>and I was upset enough to look for Adar and pour out my soul to him.

We never did have much of a breeze in his room, deep in the caves, but  
>I thought I felt something stir. As I looked around, Adar nodded sagely and<br>declared that now was the time. Clearly, I did not understand what he meant  
>but he lifted me off his lap, crouched over, and opened a cabinet under the<br>desk. I tried to peek but it was rather too dark. Still, he emerged, his golden  
>hair seemingly more cheerful than ever. "This heals all sadness," he had said,<br>holding up a beautiful crystal flask. There was a lush red liquid swirling in it  
>and he poured out a little for me.<p>

I cannot begin to describe what it felt like but it seemed to be calling out to  
>me. I held the small glass, tentatively, and looked up at Adar. He must have<br>seen my confused expression for he beckoned me to drink it. I glanced down  
>and swirled the liquid again. Everyone had always taught me not to listen to<br>anything that called me too insistently – with the exception of Adar, Naneth,  
>and the teachers, of course – and certainly, this liquid qualified.<p>

Adar, sensing my reticence, lifted me onto his lap again, but my gaze was  
>riveted to that mysterious drink. "This is from the Dorwinion area," he had<br>said. "It's wonderful. Perhaps you would understand why I am so keen to  
>trade with them." Now, that did it. I wanted to understand things because<br>that would be a mature thing to do. I wanted to be like Adar, and since he  
>was smiling, I smiled too and drank a little.<p>

It was not half as bad as I had expected. Its strange taste made me screw  
>up my face but as soon as it had run down my throat, there was only a<br>pleasant sweetness left. I looked at the cup, finished it, and looked at Adar  
>expectantly. He laughed this time, and refilled it, and I decided that this was<br>going to be my new favourite drink. It seemed to get the blood flowing and  
>that made me feel more relaxed, even if there was a rather endearing tingling<br>down in my fingertips. In this dreamy state, it was easy to forget all the things  
>Erendil said and it seemed like the only natural thing to do. I remember singing<br>a song with Adar and somehow or rather, I must have slept and had the most  
>wonderful dreams of drinking from a river of Dorwinion pleasures.<p>

Funny thing, the next day, Naneth was especially unhappy with Adar.


	5. Of Poetry

**IV.**

Otornonya palpnën,  
>Naneth ramë sen,<br>Naneth ná analya!

_My sworn-brother beat me,  
>Mother shouted at him,<br>Mother is the best!_


	6. Of Elves

**V.**

Elves are the most wonderful-est beings ever to be found in Arda.  
>We are immortal, which means we won't ever die (unless we get<br>hurt really badly in battle or Erendil accidentally hurts you with his  
>horrible archery lack-of-skill – he nearly shot me and I was standing<br>behind him! – or unless you die of grief like Nana said she would – at  
>least she says that whenever I put blue colouring into her hair wash –<br>I should try pink next time – or unless we drink too much of the special  
>thing from the Dorwinion region that Ada won't let me have any more<br>of). But basically, Ada says that we're immortal, which means we've  
>to learn how to build ships.<p>

Elves are also the only ones who speak Quenya and Sindarin, and the  
>best-est of all languages, our own Silvan dialect, which is especially<br>close to standard Sindarin. Funny why we need so many languages  
>when it's not as if there are other people who understand Quenya<br>only or Sindarin only, for example. Everyone else speaks in some  
>growling language called Common Tongue and they curse in a<br>language called Dwarvish. Ada also says that when I grow older,  
>I'll pick up Dwarvish naturally.<p>

And we love shampoo and silky hair. And we fuss all over whenever our  
>braids turn unruly and we have been known to scream whenever we<br>chip a nail.*

*Translator's note: This paragraph appears to have had been edited by an unknown hand.


End file.
